


Disclosure

by envyobsessed



Series: Stranger Things [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: 80s, But he does top, Ed and Envy and Ling etc are all like 16 in this?, Edward Elric is a top fuck you, Government Experimentation, I'm jk I'm sorry, Multi, Project MKUltra, Psychokinesis, Slow To Update, Stranger Things AU, Telepathy, Test Subject Envy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-05-30 03:13:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15087755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/envyobsessed/pseuds/envyobsessed
Summary: While in search of a missing friend, high school classmates Edward Elric, Ling Yao and Paninya find something they weren't meant to find. (Undergoing editing).





	1. Dungeons and Dragons

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is literally just Ed, Paninya, Ling and Al nerding over a board game with some drama towards the end idk what happened here. I guess I wanted things to start off nice and take a sudden dark turn? There are meant to be horror themes in this and _boy_ let me tell you, I haven't written much about those before. I apologise for that in advance.

**November 6th, 1984**

_"Something is coming. Something hungry for blood. A shadow grows on the wall behind you, swallowing you in darkness."_

 

Four wired teenagers sit in the basement of the Elric residence, a game of _D &D_ laid out on the table before them.

 

"What is it?" Al's amber eyes are fixed on Edward. He fiddles anxiously with the end of his sweater.

 

Meanwhile, Ling 'Fatass' Yao (courtesy of Edward Elric) shovels a handful of salted popcorn into his mouth, "what if it's the Demogorgon? Oh, Jesus, we're so screwed if it's the Demogorgon!" he cried through a mouthful as he leaned over the table, knocking over Paninya's drink. All three ignored the string of angry exclamations and profanities that followed. After returning from the kitchen with a cloth to wipe herself down Paninya flumps back into her seat with a sigh. "It's _not_ the Demogorgon," she insists, and Edward continues.

 

"An army of _Troglodytes_ charge into the chamber!" he suddenly slams a game piece onto the board. From the looks on their faces Edward could tell that everyone was underwhelmed or relieved by this.

 

"Troglodytes?" Ling asks flatly.

 

Paninya smiles gloatingly and shoves a forefinger at him, "told ya!" they both laugh, but Edward is silent.

 

"Wait a minute..." his eyebrows furrow in mock confusion. The acting isn't convincing, in fact it isn't remotely good, but when you were this invested it apparently didn't matter. "Do you hear that? That... that sound? Boom... boom... _BOOM!"_ the three listeners jerk back as Edward smacks his palms against the tabletop. The game pieces nearly fall over and Paninya has to grab her replenished drink to stop it from spilling again. "That didn't come from the Troglodytes, no, that– that came from something else," Edward gave them all a grave look. There was a long moment of silence, the air eerie and suffocating between them. (Anyone else would've scoffed and shook their head at the unnecessary exaggeration). Alphonse, Paninya and Ling spare each other worried glances. _(What was it?)_

 

Edward drew a breath, and in one swift movement put down another game piece. The table shakes. This piece is a dragonesque creature with two heads sprouting from two snake-like necks, it's arms ending in long tentacles and it's thick tail forking off into two pointed ends.

 

_"The Demogorgon!"_

 

"We're in deep shit," Ling threw his hands up in hopeless defeat and leaned back in his chair. Alphonse nervously drummed his fingers on the table, brow creased thoughtfully as he assessed his next move, and Paninya simply shook her head in disbelief.

 

Edward whips around to look at his brother, "Al, your action?!"

 

"I don't know!"

 

"Fireball him!" yells Paninya.

 

Alphonse looks uncertain, "I'd have to roll a thirteen or higher."

 

"No–! Too risky! Cast a protection spell," Ling says and Paninya rolls her eyes, looking nettled.

 

_"Don't be a pussy. Fireball him!"_

 

_"Cast protection!"_

 

"Enough!" Edward struck the tabletop with his fists, "the Demogorgon is tired of your silly human bickering! It stomps towards you... _boom!"_

 

_"Fireball him!"_

 

_"– Another stomp. Boom!"_

 

_"Cast protection!"_

 

_" – He roars in anger!"_

 

"Ahh... umm..." it was impossible for Alphonse to hear his thoughts over the loud and frenetic demands to _'cast this'_ or _'use that'_ so he briefly thinks _'screw it'_ , picks up two die, shakes them in his hands and rolls, "fireball!" he yells, and the pair of cubes fly off of the table. All four of them lept from their seats and began to search frantically on their hands and knees.

 

_"Oh, shit!"_

 

_"Where'd it go?"_

 

_"Where is it?"_

 

_"I don't know!"_

 

_"Is it a thirteen?"_

 

_"I don't know!"_

 

Edward had started to search by the bottom of the staircase. At the sound of a door opening he looked up and saw the figure of his mother in the doorway. "Ed, Al, it's late! Your friends need to go home!" she calls, and before her son can protest she's gone again. Ed glanced at the three of them, quite torn, before he scampers up to the second floor, placing his hands on the stairs for extra balance along the way.

 

"Just give us twenty more minutes."

 

Edward's mother was at the kitchen counter, making tomorrow's school lunch; even with her back turned to him the severity in her voice was palpable. Trisha was a force to be reckoned with when she wanted to be. "It's a school night, Edward. You can finish next weekend."

 

"But that'll ruin the flow!"

 

"Edward."

 

"I'm serious, mom! The campaign took two weeks to plan," he suddenly wilted, "...how was I supposed to know it was gonna take ten hours?"

 

Trisha finally turned around, eyebrows raised incredulously. "You've been playing for _ten hours?"_

 

"I– yeah, but... twenty more minutes! ...Please?" Edward never got an answer, but the way Trisha drew her lips in a tight line and crossed her arms said enough. _Tell your friends to go home and get yourself to bed before I ground you._

 

The blonde sighed and went back to the basement without another word, Trisha smiled sweetly and returned to the lunches. "Did you find them?" he asked on the way down. Alphonse nodded his head, dispirited.

 

"It got me... the Demogorgon. I rolled a seven."

 

"Shit," Edward groaned and rubbed the back of his neck. He then turned to Ling and Paninya, pointing behind him with his thumb, "alright losers, go hom. Mom's orders."

 

"Yeah, yeah," Paninya stretched her arms above her head and sighed happily at the sound of joints popping. What a long campaign that had been. "See you at school," she pulled on her raincoat and backpack – she only ever wore one strap on her shoulder, Edward had noticed a long time ago; it looked cool – and quickly ascended the stairs. Everyone waved goodbye. Ling did the same, with the addition of putting on his baseball cap and quickly picking up the pizza box that was left on the couch. "Anyone want the last slice?" he asked, but knowing Ling he would eat it regardless.

 

"Nah," Edward waved dismissively and Alphonse shook his head, seemingly disinterested. Edward knew better; he was thinking. About what, he didn't know. The brothers followed Ling up the stairs and went to the front of the house, where Paninya was waiting on her bike. Ling, with the pizza box tucked securely underneath his arm, put up the kickstand of his own bike with the heel of his shoe and pedalled off into the night with her.

 

_"See ya!"_

 

_"Bye!"_

 

_"You still haven't given me your X–Men 134!"_

 

_"I'll bring it tomorrow, Pipsqueak!"_

 

_**"Shut the fuck up, fatass!"** _

 

Alphonse shook his head, arms wrapped around his shoulders to try and protect himself from the intensity of the biting air. "I'm going to bed," he mumbled, stifling a yawn and shuffling back inside. Edward followed.

 

"Yeah, me too," he closed the door behind him and headed for the staircase. Somehow he'd managed to say _'goodnight, mom'_ in perfect unison with Al – eliciting an _'aww'_ from his mother – and that was _embarrassing_ so he was already gone before Trisha could fit in another word. After promptly slamming his bedroom door, Edward stripped down until he was only in boxers and odd socks (Trisha would've nearly killed him for that one if she had noticed), and then quite happily fell into bed. There was no feeling better in the world, Edward had decided, than being able to lay down after a long, tiring day. Your muscles ached and your eyelids felt heavy and sometimes you just felt too hot or too cold but the sheets and soft pillows beneath your head made great relief of your discomfort.

Edward smiled happily to himself and switched off his lamp, about to roll onto his side and drift away into a much needed sleep before he heard the staticky voice of Alphonse through his walkie–talkie.

 

_"Brother?"_

 

Edward murmured something unintelligible. Grudgingly he took the walkie–talkie from his nightstand, bringing it up to his face and pressing down on the PTT _(push–to–talk)_ button. "Mm, what is it?" he asked tiredly and released the button, waiting for a response.

 

 _"...Goodnight, I love you."_ That reply had taken a little too long in Edward's opinion. It felt like Al wanted to say something else. And, even if he was the sweetest kid Edward knew, he didn't usually say _'I love you'_ before bed.

 

"Uhm, yeah– goodnight, love you too..." he frowned, "are you okay?"

 

Another pause.

 

 _"Yeah, I'm fine."_ Something was wrong, but Edward chose not to press for details. Alphonse wasn't usually ashamed to show his wounds, so he would let his brother bring it up when he felt comfortable enough. A bad idea, the older one would later realise.

 

"...Kay, see you tomorrow." He put the walkie–talkie down and finally tucked himself underneath the sheets, falling asleep instantly.

 

It was six in the morning when Edward was gently shook awake.

 

It was six in the morning when Edward, bleary–eyed and delirious from other–worldly dreams, noticed that his mother had been crying.

 

It was six in the morning when he sat up in bed and saw the Police Chief, Roy Mustang (bastard), stood in the doorway with a solemn look.  _(What the hell was going on?)_

 

It was six in the morning when Edward had learned that Alphonse was missing.


	2. Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, right now Envy is referred to as Test Subject 07 (or simply Seven), but they will gain the name 'Envy' eventually, so no worries. If I make any errors in my work please hold me accountable for it.

Test Subject 07 ran for their life.

 

They could barely separate the harrowing sirens of the lab facility from the fire of ammunition and the continuous thud of pursuing footfall. It all overlapped and became one grating cacophony that agitated them so strongly that tears stung their eyes. The only noise their brain could recognise was the intense pounding of their heart and the head splitting shrill of something demonic.

 

It was getting closer.

 

The test subject could only ignore the myriad of corpses and blood and blinking lights, continuing their advance to safety.

 

Elevator – elevator's full. Blood. Dead. They’re dead.

 

They went back and turned another corner.

 

Hallway. Blood again. Father. Father's there.

 

Father‘s condition was no different than the others; it seemed as though he had run into one of those things and barely managed to get away. His ashen face and bloody, torn clothes told Seven that much. There was an uneasy moment of stillness between them before he gave a hollow smile that didn't quite reach his flaxen eyes, and he outstretched his hand towards the subject.

 

They barely escaped the seizing hand of the man they called their father as they turned and bolted. They push through a set of doors, ignoring the disembowelled soldiers that lie dead before them. Father watched them flee in barely contained anger, pocketing the sedative he was hiding behind his back and giving chase.

 

Seven stopped in a room that branched off into several more hallways. They whined and stamped their bare foot on the floor in frustration, turning in a circle to look at the different routes.

 

Third Floor - no. 

 

Subject Analysis Lab - no. 

 

Equipment Prep Area, Wet Room...

 

Ground Floor.

 

Blinking away their tears and forcing out any urges in their being to obey the distant and furious demands of their father to 'get back here this moment', Seven set off again. They made two rights and a left, leaping over bodies and blood. The first floor was something they‘d only ever seen once, but they had always remembered it. It was the closest thing to freedom they’d ever seen: through the windows they had felt a cool draft and seen a pale expanse of blue, blotched with huge masses of fluffy white. They had narrowed their eyes at the natural yet so unnatural sunlight and smiled. 

 

The happiness was short–lived. 

 

As they were dragged away to the Analysis Lab they had screamed and cried and begged to see more. But they never did.

 

They were getting out of this place this time though, no matter what. For a fleeting moment they glanced behind their shoulder, caught sight of the man that was only inches away, and sped up. They turned another right and skidded in blood, immediately regaining their balance in an otherwise graceful way if it weren't for the grisly ambience of the facility. Their heart rejoiced at the sight of descending stairs at the end of the hall. This was good.

 

"Seven, get back here!"

 

Then again...

 

Seven swore under their breath (they’d learnt that particular word from an aid who had struggled to drag them back to their cell) and looked around: ahead was an open door. That could help. It was heavy and made of metal and they were sure that if you were hit hard enough it would do some damage. It was their only chance, they quickly decided. No time to ponder. They took a deep breath and concentrated, and then time seemed to slow. They dug far down into their consciousness, unlocking and obtaining something that no person would’ve been able to. The other half of their brain stayed on the door and locked on. Time sped up again. Seven passed the door and vigorously swung out their arm; the heavy metal tore off of its hinges, and at the sound of collision they had smiled. (It had only stunned their pursuer though, unbeknownst to them. Seven hadn't bothered to check). 

 

Static began to pulsate loudly inside their ears as if there were a pressure within their skull pressing down on their brain, making them stumble and reel towards the stairs. They began to descend them, inevitably losing their balance at the last six steps and falling the rest of the way. Their head hit the ground and they saw stars but Seven forced themself to recover quickly from the shock, because they knew if they didn’t they would die. It had taken three attempts to actually stand up again though, the first two of which they had gotten knocked back down by head–rush and landed hard on their backside. Once Seven was on their feet again they staggered for the exit across the entrance hall. They fell heavily against the glass doors like a rag doll. The doors were hefty, for what Seven assumed was security reasons or precaution. They growled through gritted teeth and gave a hard push. One door opened just enough beneath their weight for them to slip through.

 

An icy, brisk wind had immediately swept over their body. Taking a deep, heady breath of the outside air was wonderfully intoxicating. It made them feel light and airy and not quite there – kind of like the way they felt when they were drugged before tests and experiments.

 

Seven, deciding not to think about that, raised their hand to try and touch the little white lights floating in the inky darkness of the sky. It looked different from what they remembered. Dark. Usually they weren’t fond of that, but they somehow adored it.

 

Their wonder was soon interrupted. The sound of voices was enough to send them running around the corner of the building. Guards. It wasn't just Father who had survived, then. Shame. As they wiped their bleeding nose with the back of their shaky hand, Seven wondered if they had enough energy to finish the rest of them off in favour of the creatures that were still barrelling through the facility right now.

 

No. As much as they wanted to make every last person within the facility writhe in agony like worms, they didn't think they had the strength to do that just now. Another time, perhaps. And so Seven had made the wise decision to run off again. They almost sobbed despairingly at the sight of a barbed–wire fence. As they doubled their fists and tried not to cry, they thought. They thought, and they thought, and they thought some more. And, finally, something came to them. 

 

The test subject fixed the bottom of the fence with an intense stare; their nose bled, their ears rang, and... nothing. Seven closed their eyes and drew in a deep breath. They tried again. Seven gave the fence a look as if it were something truly disgusting, but this attempt proved to be just as successful as the last. They sighed waveringly and, as a final resort, thought of something they hated, something they hated more than the lab tests, or their uncomfortable bed, or that monster. Seven thought of their father, and at last the metal at the bottom of the fence started to groan and uproot. As it bent upwards and out of shape Seven’s twisted, disoriented mind visualised it as Father's brittle bones. They wondered how much deformation the human spine could handle before it would break. They smiled grimly. Their nose and ears gushed with blood, their head felt as if it were to rupture like a ballon with too much air, their delicate body tremored violently and their eyes stung, but they still laughed. The tears fell and they laughed some more. They crawled through the small opening they had created and struggled to get up again, stumbling across the grass and falling against a tree five feet away. The laughter eventually died down to nothing but soft pants and sniffles. Seven could already feel their surroundings becoming distant and their body numb. Their brain was getting ready to shut down for the night. That was what always happened when they strained himself; they collapsed. 

 

But they couldn't, could they? No, certainly not here, not so close. The thought of falling unconscious and being found – or eaten alive – was frighteningly invigorating. They needed to find safe refuge until they would be well enough to stop seeing double, but it was beginning to get difficult to focus on anything at all. Their sight was foggy and grey and when they had found a big log to catch their fall they were just about ready to give up. But then they had registered a strangely familiar sound – the faint growling of a predatory creature, something that was ready to pounce and tear any breathing thing to shreds. With the little strength they had left they forced themself to strain their ears and listen closer. When their brain finally clicked and recognised what the noise was coming from they felt their blood run cold. It hadn't been from something that inhabited the miles of thick forest around the lab facility, no, this particular thing had escaped from the _inside_. If it didn't have the clear intent to kill them, Seven might've felt pity for once in their life. It had probably been afraid like them, hadn't it? Unfairly imprisoned and abused in the name of science. The creature snarled again, but they were rooted. Every instinct in their body was screaming ’run’, yet their brain wasn't listening and their limbs were frozen stiff. Seven glanced behind their shoulder slowly and saw dark, mangy fur.

 

They remembered the chimeras. 

 

Seven had seen Father’s very first display of emotion when he'd told them about it. He was enthralled by the achievement; a new amalgamated species that had been, just as them, grown within the lab. Other than the chimeras, however, Seven had no idea what other living things were being tortured in that place. The monster they had set free was something they’d never seen or heard of before in their life. And it was starved, judging by the lack of limbs and organs they’d witnessed when running by the people who hadn't made it (at least a few of them had suffered, Seven thought happily). It couldn't eat forever, could it? Where would it possibly go after it would decide that it was full? Maybe its hunger for human flesh couldn’t be sated. With that alarming thought Seven soon realised it would only be so long before the remaining staff in the building were devoured, and they would be next (assuming the chimera wouldn’t get them first).

 

With newfound adrenaline, Seven had taken a deep breath and ran. The huge creature quickly gave pursuit. As it shrieked they winced and clapped their hands over their ears, not only from the way it made their headache intensify, like thin spikes piercing through the inside of their skull, but from how blood-curdling it was. Like nails on a chalkboard, or utensils on a plate. It wrenched their spine and made their stomach twist into unpleasant knots, and when their foot had been swallowed up in deep mud they truly believed it was over for them. Seven fell to the ground with a wet thud, hands and feet slipping uselessly in the mire as they tried to stand. Amidst their panic they heard the chimera pounce and they turned on their side quickly. A set of canine teeth lunged for them and they barely had time to try and kick it away. Its jaw closed tightly around their ankle and Seven cried, flesh tearing as they tried desperately to pull their leg free. The chimera persisted. They looked left and right, through the darkness noticing a log small enough to carry but surely thick enough to hurt someone. Seven wasn't sure how much it would hurt something like a chimera but they weren’t going to sit there and let their right leg be torn from its socket, so they reached for the log, snatching it up from the mud with a strong yank before bringing it down hard on the creature's head. The impact had made its teeth dig in deeper, which made Seven wail, but then it had released its jaw from their leg with a dog–like cry. Warm blood ran down their calf but they paid no mind, immediately stabbing the log into the ground and using it to haul themself back up. They scrambled away while the chimera recovered from its shock (that unfortunately hadn't taken long), and once again continued their desperate search for safety. Through the trees and the rain and the haze of their exhausted mind, Seven noticed a dark opening: a burrow which they hadn't hesitated to dive into stomach–first. They turned over and pushed themself back until they were pressed against the wall of the small animal cave, glad to find that whatever creature had dug its way in here was no longer inhabiting the muddy tunnel. The insects and other tiny creatures that had taken its place weren't much of a bother right now; Seven watched the chimera skid to a halt outside of the borrow's mouth, their heavy breaths filling up the silence of the hole with an unsettling echo. It was too large to reach them from in here, even with its long–ish neck and protruding snout. They were fine. They were safe.

 

But Seven had misjudged the chimera's size, failing to realise that its thick fur made it appear much larger than what it was. The chimera began to squeeze itself through the entrance, and Seven’s distant world crumbled around them. "No!" They cried. "No, you can't!"

 

This was it, they lamented, this was where they died. For good. Not in the Analysis Room where they had screamed fearfully enough to tear open a gateway to only god knew where, not where an extraterrestrial monster had invited itself in, not in the lobby where they had landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs or in the woods where they had fallen in the mud. Now. It was now, cornered in a cramped little burrow, cold, drenched, alone and scared. They would be eaten alive by this thing and whatever was left behind of Seven would never be found. Their bones would slowly decay and they would be forgotten. They would never see the rest of the world and they would never–

(The chimera was dragged away).

Seven could only watch in stupefied shock as it was pulled back through the mouth of the burrow and lifted out of sight. Their ears only just managed to pick up on the disgusting sound of tearing flesh and snapping bones. Blood spilled at the entrance like a red cascade and the mewling of the chimera that they suddenly felt no guilt for was abruptly cut short. They might’ve felt relief, but when the mystery attacker had dropped the chimera’s body and slowly crouched to leer at them through the entrance, Seven had to press two hands against their mouth to suppress a scream. This was worse. Far worse. A face - an ugly cluster of teeth and flesh and gore nearly filled up the entire mouth of the burrow and a guttural growl came from the thing. From the monster. Their expression became void of emotion. After attempting to push itself into the burrow (and not quite fitting), it outstretched an arm that was long enough to reach Seven, long enough so it could seize them and drag them out just like it had to the chimera. A dark claw grazed their cheek and their face spasmed underneath the unpleasant touch. Seven simply closed their eyes and thought of those strange little white lights. They thought of the breeze, and the shower in the sky, and the trees. Perhaps that would ensue their death. Or maybe there would be nothing. A cold void of darkness and isolation that would stretch on and on forever. Something they weren’t unfamiliar with, but certainly afraid of. Seven didn’t want to go there. Not there. No, he couldn't. They just couldn't.

 

They opened their eyes. The tunnel was empty.

 

Seven had to knuckle their bleary eyes to make sure their poor, damaged brain wasn’t playing any tricks on them. They were met with nothing once again. With a pained groan they pushed themself forward and onto their hands and knees, scrambling out into the open. They’d much rather be out here with the monster than cornered in that claustrophobic little hole. Seven turned in a full circle and almost missed the creature in the darkness. They were struck with sudden anxiety now that they could observe the rest of it a little closer; it almost looked human, had it not been for the long limbs and black skin that glistened slimily underneath the moonlight. It's face opened up, almost like a growing rosebud -  petals of dark flesh lined with thousands of sharp, needle-like teeth. It turned away. Why had it done such a thing, Seven wondered. That’s when they realised it was looking at something, someone. For a split second they noticed a head of short, blonde hair that quickly vanished into the shadows, most likely to never be seen again (judging by how quickly the monster had followed). The stranger looked too young to be a guard or nurse or in fact anyone at all that would work willingly at the lab; another test subject, maybe? Seven involuntarily winced. Shouldn’t they feel the need to help their own? They didn’t. Right now all they cared about was saving themself. Call them selfish, but no one in the world meant anything to them, including the young child with blonde hair. So Seven was already staggering off in the opposite direction. The more distance between them and this place, the better.

 

They kept going until the rain had stopped and the mud on them had dried and the peaceful sound of birdsong began to fill the biting air of dawn. By now Seven had pushed themself and their brain to limits that their father would have been very pleased to see them reach but they, in spite of their ‘achievements’, felt like what they could only explain as utter trash, and trying to perceive their surroundings was just as helpful as stargazing through a kaleidoscope. Seven staggered through some bushes, ignoring the sharp branches that mangled and tore their blue–spotted hospital gown. The soil beneath their feet became solid concrete. As they narrowed their eyes, they saw what they could only assume was a building, and before Seven could decide whether it was safe to stay they were on the ground. They felt something hard and rough against their cheek (which they would later realise was a doormat), and they found themself giving in.

 

But as Seven’s consciousness began to drift, and as the sunrise peered over the trees and cast an amber warmth over their body, they realised that, no, they weren't giving in, they were free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I?? Didn’t think that this chapter would be so long, sorry for updating so late. 
> 
> I’ve found with most (perhaps all) of my works that I compare myself to other authors too much and end up deleting it all out of insecurity (yes, I am indeed very stupid). So please, please do leave a comment. It would mean a lot and would definitely motivate me to write. Any feedback will do.


	3. Thinking Realistically

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy.
> 
> I apologise for how late this chapter is, my mood dropped out of nowhere. I went ahead and wrote this down in one day so you guys wouldn’t be left hanging anymore (hence it being so short and rushed). I have had lots of free time to work on this, but I’ve hardly been managing to get out of bed and feed myself, let alone write down a semi–decent chapter. I won’t go on with excuses, though. I’m truly sorry for how delayed the chapter is, and want to say a big thank you to those who left comments and/or kudos.

No more than a few hours in the wake of Test Subject 07's escape, Edward Elric had followed his mother and Roy Mustang out of his room in an incredulous haze, unconsciously wrapping the bathrobe that was handed to him tight around his shoulders. His mother helped him into a kitchen chair and after staring at the red checker design of the tablecloth for another minute, his gaze turned furious.

 

"What do you mean, he's _missing?"_ Edward shifted his bleary eyes up to Roy. "It isn't like someone came in here and just _took_ him, I would've heard, his room is right next to mine."

 

Mustang frowned. He seemed troubled, and that certainly didn't make Edward feel any better. "I know. But there isn’t enough evidence to suggest that he was actually taken.”

 

Edward blinked, his expression switching from angry to confused and back to angry again in no more than three emotional seconds. "Now you're saying he ran away? He wouldn't! Al isn't like that– he doesn't– he..." His voice slowly lost its vigor, becoming something far more uncertain. Edward's brow furrowed and it suddenly looked as though he were about to burst into tears. He was awfully headstrong and intelligent for someone his age, it was often easy to forget how young he actually was. Mustang chose to ignore the faint yet painful twinge in his chest.

 

"I'm not saying anything," he answers, firm, "it's just a possibility."

 

Mustang, Trisha and Edward went over the details of last night; such as the very last thing they had seen Alphonse doing, his behaviour lately and anything that may have seemed unusual about it. From their conversation Edward gathered that Trisha had woken up at around five, checked on her sons and immediately called Mustang upon the discovery that her youngest was nowhere to be found. Roy had been off duty at the time and after a nightmare–riddled sleep, being woken up at the crack of dawn didn’t feel wonderful at all.

 

In their small Midwestern town Mustang was known to be an officer who, despite his own personal issues, 'got shit done.' His closeness with the Elric family was no secret either, so him being Trisha’s go–to guy was not hard to understand in the least. He was rough around the edges yet one of the most reliable cops around. If anyone could get Alphonse back, it was him.

 

Edward hadn’t realised that he’d zoned out or began to cry until Mustang laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. He snapped back to life with a jolt, quickly scrubbing the tears from his eyes and looking at him with a curious gaze.

 

“I will bring him home. You two take care of each other.” For a second, just for a second, Edward saw an expression far gentler than what one would expect to see on the face of Roy Mustang. A firm nod was what he responded with, drawing in a deep breath.

 

“I will.”

 

As he picked up his hat from the kitchen table and stood, Edward saw the even more concerned expression that contorted his mother’s ashen face, her hands anxiously stressing the apron she wore. “You’re leaving?”

 

“I’ll file a report and inquire the neighbours, see if they know anything. Those friends of yours – what did you say their names were?” Roy turns to Edward, who struggles to find his voice for a moment.

 

“Um... Ling. Yao. And Paninya Simmons.”

 

He was already bee-lining for the kitchen door before either of them could say anything else.

 

“Wait–!” Trisha calls, “Let me come with you.”

 

“No,” Mustang shook his head, “I need you to stay here, both of you. In case he comes back.” Edward supposed he wouldn’t be going to school, then. He considers grimly how that would’ve pleased him on any other day, in any other situation.

 

Roy heads out at last, brow creased in a deep frown as he thinks hard and rubs his jaw. Where would Alphonse Elric run off to? He was a good kid, very good. Never rebellious, always followed the rules. He couldn’t think of many things that would prompt a well behaved boy such as him to run away. Nothing, besides...

 

“Hohenheim.” He mumbled, stopping to dig his car keys out of his pocket. The father of Edward and Alphonse Elric hadn’t been in the picture for long, Mustang knew that. He’d add him to his list of people to consult.

 

Disappearances weren’t unfamiliar to Hawkins and its older residents. Growing up in the 60s, Mustang could recall many of them – not as an officer, but as a young man who had witnessed a handful of peers leave school one day and never return the next. Some serious disappearances had showed up here and there after he became a cop; though it was never long before those particular cases were passed up to someone of a higher authority and never heard from again. That had always made him feel uneasy.

 

Something was _wrong_ , and until now Mustang had never had the nerve to even consider digging further into it. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he sits silently in his car, his other hand squeezing the wheel until his knuckles turn white.

 

No. He was speculating too much. The kid probably just stayed at a friend’s house or ran away to find his dad. Those were logical, realistic explanations. As Mustang turns on the ignition and pulls out of the driveway, he ignores the small instinctive voice in his head that tells him realistic is not the way to go this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the way my mood has dropped, I’ve decided to stick firmly to the plot of Stranger Things instead of deviating and creating my own original scenario. I feel it will be easier to write and you guys will most likely get updates a lot quicker this way. I’ll add my own elements, of course, and still change a few things up. I’d also like to apologise for my total lack of knowledge on what is supposed to be done when a person goes missing. Yikes. 
> 
> Alphonse went missing on the night of Envy’s escape, by the way. Just to clarify. Honestly it’s my fault for not making that clear enough and I’ll try to work on it in the future.


	4. Far Away

_Seven opened their eyes but saw nothing._

 

_With a frightened gasp they blinked, and when nothing happened they knuckled their eyelids until it started to hurt. It was still dark._

 

_That didn't make sense, no... they were dreaming. They must've been._

 

 _Their left hand immediately met their right forearm and they pinched down as hard as they could._ 'Wake up, Seven. Wake up wake up wake u–'

 

_"Hello?!”_

 

_A voice echoed around them and the empty void flickered to life, like turning on an old light switch in a dark room._

 

_Seven suddenly felt freezing cold and they put their arms around themself, breathing in shakily between their teeth._

 

_They knew this place._

 

_This was where they had been chased by the chimera, where they had seen the boy and the monster and almost met their demise. Yet, somehow, it was different. It felt grim, and... far from their being, almost as if it were an illusion or hologram. Seven supposed that was just the side effects of a dream._

 

 _As they took a slow step forward, Seven felt and heard a thick sludge beneath their feet. Their lip curled in disgust as they withdrew quickly._ 'Gross...' _Was the first thing that childishly came to mind as their eyes followed a long, pulsating tendril along the floor. But Seven quickly realised that it wasn't a tree root at all – it was something resembling that of a tentacle, long and black and slimy and... their brain immediately recognised that texture, somehow, and it wasn't long before they made the connections. They remembered the way the monster glistened with slime, the way its muscles and bones rippled beneath its dark, grimy skin as it chased that boy off into the forest. The tentacles, or roots, whatever they were - it was from the monster, and it was_ everywhere; _on the ground and in the frozen soil, spiraling up tree trunks like reaching hands and laced into the branches. Parts of it had even flaked off and remained floating in the atmosphere as particles; Seven immediately covered their mouth with their arm._

 

_"Is anybody there?!"_

 

_With a jolt they spun around and saw the boy with blonde hair again._

 

 _Seven began to walk over to him immediately – they didn't know why. They wanted to speak with him. They_ had _to, even if he did feel like a threat. There was something important about him; they felt a connection. How couldn't there be one? If it weren't for his involuntary distraction that night, Seven surely would have been killed. But why was he here?_

 

_The boy was stood right in front of them, but somehow he felt... distant, just like everything else around them._

 

_"Hello?" Seven asked in a small voice._

 

_The boy's head shot up and he looked around frantically. He had heard them, but... he couldn't see them? Seven frowned, feeling a shiver wrench their spine. The boy looked directly into their violet eyes and did not react; he wasn't seeing them at all._

 

_"W-Who's there? Where am I?!"_

 

_"I... don’t know." Seven answers, and when they lay a hand on the boy's shoulder his slightly taller figure evaporates beneath their fingers like fog._

 

_The dark world around Seven slowly vanished with the boy, and they were left alone again._

 

 _"Wait–! Come back!" They called, and began to run as fast as their weak body would allow. Everything was black, they couldn't see what direction they were going in — where were they?_   Where were they? _A sharp pain shoots up their leg and as the floor that they couldn't see comes up to meet them, Seven's head began to throb. "Wait!" They cried again, pushing themself up on their elbows to look out at the empty darkness. There was only silence._

 

_Seven took a moment to calm down and draw a deep, wavering breath. They stood slowly and carefully, shifting their weight onto their good leg this time._

 

_When they had heard a familiar growl, they suddenly didn't care about being careful anymore. The monster shrieked, and Seven took off in the opposite direction._

 

 _"Alphonse!"_ They woke with a start. Seven jerked up into a sitting position instantly, sweating and shivering as they forced down the bitter taste that had risen in their throat. They rubbed the tears from their eyes quickly and looked around; the room was empty.

 

It was warm. They marveled at the soft, cushiony feeling beneath their fingers and looked down to see that they were in a bed. This, however, was not the uncomfortable mattress they had despised so strongly in the lab. The bed sheets were a pale peach colour, fluffy and warm – it was a pleasant contrast with the sterile, whitewashed environment they were accustomed to.

 

It had taken a while for Seven to regulate their breathing and suppress the nauseous feeling in their stomach, but once they had, they decided that it was time to do a little investigating. They swung their legs over the side of the bed and stood, wincing as the floorboards creaked in protest beneath their weight. Not that it mattered; they felt that hot throbbing pain in in their calf again and their backside instantly went down to the mattress. They hissed and gritted their teeth, glaring down at their leg as if to scorn it – that's when they finally noticed that it had been sheathed in gauze, not a trace of blood or mud to be seen. They glowered fretfully and their fingertips traced the wraps of white cloth as they thought one thing only; someone was here.

 

Seven looked up at the door, straining their ears for any kind of sound. There were distant thuds here and there, nothing loud enough for them to identify the source of the noise. They winced, pushed themself off of the bed and limped over to the door quietly. Their fingers close around the golden doorknob but they can't find the courage to turn it. Going back to bed would be nicer. They _were_ quite tired.

 

Whatever was out there could hurt them, they reminded themself sternly. Better to understand the circumstances now instead of waiting around to be killed. Their brow creased downwards as they opened the door at last, sweat already forming on their forehead as the hinges squeaked loudly. Seven opened it just enough for them to push their slim body through, first leaning their head forward. A hallway, empty, with black and white tiles and faded green wallpaper. They let their fingers trace over the vintage flower motif on the wall as they began to walk down the corridor, stopping instantly when they noticed a framed picture of a smiling family.

 

“ _...Quite young. Fifteen? Sixteen years old? Yeah... poor kid looked pretty beat up.”_

 

Seven froze. Not far ahead there was an open doorway to the left, from which light poured out into the hallway along with, alarmingly, a moving shadow.

 

_No, no... there was a bite? A bite, on his leg – I patched it up. Yes, I am, he'll be alright... I’m not sure. Yeah, quite big. Looks like it came from a... wolf or a large dog, or something.”_

 

Creeping closer to the doorway, Seven gripped the frame and slowly peered around the side. Their heart lept up to their throat at the sight of a tall, dark haired man leaning over a counter right by the door, holding a pair of glasses between his thumb and index finger as he fumbled with the phone pressed against his ear. They knew to expect somebody, yet it still threw they off guard.

 

“Yeah, it'd be great if someone would come by... Hughes' Diner. 4819 Randolph Lane... yeah, Randolph. I know it's a hell of a drive, I'll close up for today and keep an eye on him.” At some point Seven had stopped listening, eyes roving around the room curiously. Briefly they considered how it looked somewhat reminiscent of the lab with the white floor and strange, complex machines.

 

(Those complex machines were just dishwashers and stoves, of course. Seven hadn't seen either of which before).

 

Their gaze, however, fell upon something far more interesting. A few jars of strawberry preserves were lined on the counter across the room; they didn't know what those were either. But it looked edible. As Seven felt their stomach growl they could only dismiss the theory in their head that the red stuff in the jar was blood. The man puts the phone back in its receiver and rubs his eyes with a troubled sigh. Seven sees this as an opportunity, padding nimbly along the floor and snatching one of the jars from the counter. As they crouch by the corner (hopefully out of sight), Seven screws the lid off of the glass container and digs their fingers into the sticky red jelly, shoveling it into their mouth greedily and sighing in delight at the sweet taste. They repeated the motion again and again and again – perhaps if they weren't as hungry Seven would actually realise that strawberry preserves alone didn't taste nice at all. The jar was half empty when Seven felt a hand on their shoulder, making them flinch and drop it instantly.

 

“Hey kiddo, you're awake!” The man says chipperly. When he notices the frightened and even furious look on Seven's face, his merry bearing seems to dampen. “Hey, hey... it's alright, I'm not gonna hurt ya.” He assures them gently, and then looks down at the jar on the floor. He picks it up, moving slowly and carefully as to not scare the young boy... or girl. It was hard to tell. Seven was a tiny thing, standing no more than five feet and a couple inches. Hughes figured that they were a boy considering the short, buzzed hair and the slight hints of muscle on their biceps and calves. Yet there was also a femininity to Seven; big doe eyes and long lashes, a gently curved jawline and hips that were just a bit too wide for a teenage boy. Maybe the kid would be willing to let him know. “How about I get you some actual food?” briefly he eyed the dirty, ragged hospital gown, “and a change of clothes. How's that sound?” he offered a smile.

 

Slowly, Seven nodded their head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long.

**Author's Note:**

> You'll notice at the beginning that I have practically copied the script word for word. I have no idea how D&D works and I didn't want to get anything inaccurate, which is why I chose to do that. Usually I don't copy scripts when writing AUs and this was probably the only exception. 
> 
> I don't like putting OCs in fan–fictions but they're simply there to fill the gaps – I won't make them major characters unless absolutely necessary.
> 
> Another thing: kudos and comments are going to make me update a hell of a lot quicker. Juuust saying.


End file.
